


The Curse of the Uchiha

by cosmicconundrum



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Crack, Humor, Multi, deidara is salty that itachi is pretty, featuring angsty unresolved feelings between kakashi and obito, itachi only has eyes for shisui, naruto has a lot of emotions regarding sasuke, not really ship-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:55:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23112049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicconundrum/pseuds/cosmicconundrum
Summary: The Uchiha hadn't been cursed with hatred so much as they'd been cursed with a dark and regal sort of beauty.Those darn Uchiha genes,Tobirama growled to himself.--Sasuke, Itachi, Shisui, Obito, and Madara are all attractive in varying ways. Many people muse over this fact.
Relationships: Deidara/Uchiha Itachi, Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito, Hoshigaki Kisame/Uchiha Itachi, Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara, Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara, Uchiha Itachi/Uchiha Shisui, Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto
Comments: 43
Kudos: 459





	The Curse of the Uchiha

**Author's Note:**

> aka the "pretty uchihas" fic. this was really just an excuse for me to wax poetic about itachi's absolutely UNREAL prettiness.
> 
> “why did satan make me so beautiful” - all of the uchiha, collectively.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that any citizen of Konoha in search of a handsome suitor must be in want of an Uchiha. 

There was a common (and correct) conception that the Uchiha were unusually attractive, as a result of good clan breeding (read: intra-clan marriages) and a long history of producing talented shinobi. The Uchiha were also the designated occupational police of Konoha, and it was not unusual to see large numbers of young Uchiha amongst the genin at the academy. For many years, the Senju and other large clans also carried this reputational burden.

There was a rivalry between the Senju and the Uchiha, yes, but now that the Senju were all but extinct, they had been replaced with countless others seeking this competition. The Hyuuga were one example. The unspoken rivalry between the Uchiha and Hyuuga mainly lay in the fact that both were well respected clans famous for their good breeding and well-maintained traditions. Both had the special kekkei genkai eyes and the fighting prowess to compete among the very best of shinobi.

Most importantly, both were incredibly good-looking. Something about the dark hair and light eyes and the confident, solid, and powerful stances that the Hyuuga used in taijutsu fights made the clansmembers all the more attractive.

But the Uchiha were attractive in a drastically different way that overshadowed the characteristic Hyuuga look.

Some would point out the black, silky hair. Others would cite the piercing gaze, made all the more hot by the occasional flicker of the Sharingan. Still, some shinobi would think of the high cheekbones, the strong jawlines, and the regal noses. Though every Uchiha looked different, they somehow all shared the same smoky, dark kind of beauty.

Long after the clan memory began to fade in the villagers’ eyes, some would still make reference to this fact. In their modern era, it mostly manifested in the young genins’ preteen-phase obsession with Sasuke, who had become their very own local edgy boy. 

Naruto didn’t understand this at the time. But neither did the many people before him, when they came to terms with the attractiveness of their Uchiha. 

* * *

**Itachi.**

_**Elegant. Foreboding. Pretty.** _

When Deidara first laid eyes on his Uchiha, he had what one would call an “experience.”

(Not that Itachi was _his_ Uchiha per se; Itachi was simply the resident Uchiha of the Akatsuki, and it had become common lingo on the group’s behalf to refer to Itachi as such.)

This “experience” mostly equated to having a minor mental breakdown while simultaneously undergoing a life-changing revelation about the sources of Deidara’s artistic inspirations.

Itachi was _pretty._

Deidara was not willing to admit this even to himself. It took him a few weeks to warm up enough (from his previous state of stone cold petty ignorance) to even tolerate looking at Itachi, much less contemplate _how_ he looked. But it was true, and Deidara wasn’t the only one who could admit it. Without even realizing it, Itachi had become Deidara’s new muse. His understanding of art, and of the world of aesthetics and beauty, had completely shifted around to accommodate this new person.

That was how Deidara and Kisame ended up sitting side by side against the wall of their cave, chatting away about Uchihan beauty standards. Deidara couldn’t put his immeasurable levels of frustration over Itachi’s unintentional attractiveness into words, and merely gestured wildly. Fortunately, Kisame was a good listener, and understood him just as well. They were in agreement over this fact.

Itachi could best be described as forebodingly elegant. He kept his black hair long and straight, and only bothered to simply tie it back in a loose ponytail. His silky bangs framed his face, (effortlessly) drawing attention to those high cheekbones. His long, thin nose complemented his sharp chin and that absolutely incredible jawline. His expression was always neutral, carefully controlled to prevent even slight emotions from slipping through. Truth be told, he looked exhausted—his eyes were double-lidded from fatigue—but that somehow only made his already long lashes look longer. Seriously, how was it even possible for him to simultaneously look like the edgy pretty boy he was and also look like he hadn’t slept at all in the last month?

Kisame had taken similar notice a while ago, although he was more calm in accepting this fact than Deidara.

His first thought, upon meeting Itachi, had been something along the lines of “who let _another_ twink into the Akatsuki?”

The heavy fabric of the Akatsuki cloak gave the illusion that Itachi’s shoulders were broader than they were in reality, and also hid his thin figure. Itachi was young at the time, though he had unconsciously put a lot of effort into looking older than he really was. That was another thing that bothered Kisame. It wasn’t like anyone in the Akatsuki really cared about their health or body image (such was the consequence of being too busy taking over the world), but in Itachi’s case, it was taking a toll on his health.

Kisame still thought it was unrealistic for the stress lines to somehow make Itachi more attractive. If anything, they also made him look wise. 

Because even if Itachi was tall and lanky for his age, he was still young, boyish, and devilishly handsome to the point of torture. He had that face that made him look mature beyond his years and youthful in the way immortals might appear, harsh but ethereal.

Sometimes Kisame was incredibly weirded out by the conflicting emotions Itachi’s face induced in himself, as well as in the rest of the group. Kisame was pretty sure Deidara had gone through the same thought process (although maybe Deidara’s emotions skewed closer to jealous admiration than confused acceptance. Apparently Orochimaru had been similarly affected, since his first reaction upon meeting someone with a pretty face was usually to steal that person’s body. Good thing Itachi was more than just a pretty face, and had the quick movements, sharp intellect, and fighting prowess to completely obliterate Orochimaru and excommunicate him from the organization.)

Even Itachi’s fighting style made him elegant. He was reserved and regal, letting his opponents use their energy and weapons before countering their attacks with barely any energy. He stood tall and strong as kunai whizzed past him, and skillfully avoided blasts of flame or ice like he was doing a complicated series of steps to a waltz. Itachi was graceful. He fought like a dancer would dance, turning and sidestepping in the most sophisticated way. His preferred method of attack was to use his eyes, which was suitable, because Itachi’s dark and sometimes red gaze was foreboding and terrifying (and also insanely pretty).

Fortunately for everyone else in the Akatsuki, Itachi didn’t make the situation awkward, since he appeared to otherwise not care at all about his appearance. This was completely understandable given their situation; the group’s mission was not to become the next top shinobi models, and (with the exception of maybe Deidara) nobody cared about appearances beyond what was necessary in order to frighten their targets or keep up a hard-earned S-rank reputation.

(Not that some of the other members in the group weren’t also attractive—but that was another matter entirely.)

Itachi didn’t pay attention to his image, and he didn’t need to. Just seeing the man’s silhouette against the rising moon with only the glow of his swirling Sharingan was enough to (secretly) freak the living daylights out of Kisame on multiple occasions. Itachi had the advantage of looking dark and mysterious, which served well to support his facade—and that was the other thing. Though the members of the Akatsuki didn’t openly talk about their tragic backstories, most members had suspicions about one another. Kisame was older and intelligent enough to pick up on the small signs Itachi let slip through, and he deduced enough to know that perhaps Itachi wasn’t the phantom presence so many thought he was. 

Kisame was not denying that Itachi had earned his S-rank. But sometimes Kisame thought he had glimpsed into Itachi’s interior and seen a part of his real personality. And that real Itachi was… surprisingly gentle. This was perhaps obvious given his reserved fighting style. Itachi tended to avoid fights when possible, and rarely landed fatal blows. His greatest weapon was his psychological deterrence, aided by the spinning red wheels of his eyes. 

Sometimes when Kisame sat on the ledge of the rocky cave they called their headquarters, he would hear Itachi’s near-silent footsteps padding closer. Then, he would turn and see Itachi joining him. And in that moment, as Itachi turned pensive and stared off into the distance, his dark gaze grew misty. Kisame wondered then, if Itachi thought of his family. Everyone knew the story of Konoha’s wraith, but here he was now, and he almost looked sad. And Kisame thought that this hidden depth, the mystery of character, is what really made Itachi attractive.

Itachi was definitely the most interesting partner Kisame could have asked for, and, in a way, he was thankful they were paired together. They complemented one another. They fought well despite their drastically different fighting styles. They shared a sense of mutual respect, and perhaps even kinship. For that, Kisame was more than willing to overlook Itachi’s prettiness.

Deidara was convinced that Itachi had just inherited the Uchiha genes of undeniable beauty, while Kisame was unsure. 

While they had this silent not-argument, Kisame pondered his experiences. Kisame had met other members of the Uchiha a long time ago, and had also seen the famed Uchiha Sasuke on one occasion (though he was a child at the time). If Deidara really wanted, they could bring up this topic again if they ever happened to be together and run into Sasuke at the same time. They could evaluate his face and compare him to his brother.

Both Kisame and Deidara would never ask Itachi for his opinion, as the topic was too awkward to discuss in a criminal organization like theirs. Also, despite how much Itachi seemed to loathe his brother, he would never answer such a silly question.

 _What a model older brother,_ Kisame thought to himself. _That’s our Uchiha for you!_

* * *

**Shisui.**

_**Cunning. Sharp. Charming.** _

Itachi once thought the same thing about his closest friend in the time _before_. He had been taking a stroll through the woods behind the training fields with the one and only Shisui, and had a revelation.

He stopped, stunned, and stared after Shisui’s retreating figure. And in that moment he had approximately several dozen thoughts.

These several dozen thoughts circulated through his mind before ultimately merging together to form a conclusion which decided to present itself at a most inopportune moment. That conclusion: Shisui was attractive. In a brilliant, charming sort of way.

In hindsight, Itachi should have seen this particular revelation coming. It wasn’t like he hadn’t observed the other chuunin and genin of their age group looking at Shisui from afar, usually with something like admiration painted across their faces. They giggled or sighed, remarking on Shisui’s status as a prodigy or his general coolness.

(Itachi wouldn’t really notice this at all, but he himself received many of the same looks.)

And now that he was older and aware enough to reflect upon this observation, he came across the completely unstunning revelation that maybe those chuunin had reasons to look. Shisui was fast, true to his nickname. He had bright, sharp eyes and short dark lashes that curled up at the end and an even brighter, sharper smile. His nose was broad and his hair was forever curly and he was taller and broader than Itachi, with a lot more muscle and stamina. His hands were rough and calloused, but his fingers were gentle when they brushed against Itachi’s own longer, thinner ones. He could throw his kunai and shuriken even better than Itachi could, and he did it while flashing a grin or doing a backflip through the air. Itachi also supposed that it wasn’t just Shisui’s looks that made him so charming.

Shisui was, after all, a shining star in Itachi’s life. He was cunning, but also outgoing and friendly in a way that not many Uchiha (or shinobi in general) were. He had a sense of humor. He was willing to take others under his wing. He was willing to be a peer mentor. He was a supportive fellow shinobi who had been clever enough to figure out the tricks needed to throw a kunai a certain way, or to channel chakra more accurately. He was so skilled, yet so humble. He was down to earth and willing to call out those perpetuating injustices on their bullshit. Most importantly, he knew how to be a trustworthy friend. He was loyal beyond all doubts to those he loved.

And that is what made him attractive.

It was this revelation that had Itachi stumbling in his steps and slowing down as this train of thought took hold of his brain so that the only thing he could focus on was just how amazing Shisui was.

Shisui, supportive friend that he was, noticed Itachi’s hesitation and turned around.

“Everything alright?”

And, as always, Itachi simply nodded. He may have even smiled a little as he found his previous pace and caught up with Shunshin no Shisui. The said teen looked over Itachi, unconsciously checking for any signs of stress. His sharp gaze flickered up to meet Itachi’s, and Itachi’s breath stuttered in his throat. Shisui was _so attractive._

“If you keep zoning out like that, I might accidentally get trapped in your genjutsu,” Shisui said, grinning.

“I’m not casting a genjutsu,” Itachi stated.

“You don’t need to. Your eyes are so pretty that anyone could get lost in them just by looking.”

The resulting blush spreading across Itachi’s cheeks and his look of complete flusteredness was enough to send Shisui into a fit of laughter, turning away and hunching in on himself with his arms wrapped around his stomach as he tried to contain the tears his eyes were threatening to shed.

Itachi watched Shisui for a bit and then looked away, sighing in defeat, with one hand covering his still-red face. That silver-tongued Shisui.

_Charming indeed._

* * *

**Obito.**

_**Fierce. Scarred. Dangerous.** _

At the very moment that the mask cracked, time seemed to freeze. The forefront of the allied shinobi forces stared as the white porcelain fell away, almost in slow motion, to finally reveal the identity of the villain beneath it. For a few crucial seconds, everything was completely silent.

It was then that Kakashi saw him. Icy horror instantly crystallized up his spine. Kakashi’s entire world had been turned on its head as he readjusted to the knowledge that his friend and teammate, Uchiha Obito, was alive. It was unmistakably him. It had been more than a decade, but he could never forget his friend’s face, no matter the scarring. After going through several stages of emotion, including surprise, confusion, betrayal, and finally glum acceptance, Kakashi began to experience other emotions, which were subtler and somehow more confusing.

One of these such emotions was indescribable, but could best be summarized as “Wow, Obito got hot.”

Perhaps it was not a good time to be having these thoughts—Kakashi was in the middle of a battle, and Naruto desperately needed his help.

But when Kakashi made eye contact with Obito, his heart stopped. He lost himself in that once-familiar gaze. Two bright red, pulsing Sharingans stared into one another. 

Kakashi found himself frozen by Obito’s shocking beauty, scars and all. He had aged well. Before, he had been a round-faced young Uchiha, with wide, dark eyes and a brilliant smile. He had been cute before. Now he had lost all his baby fat, and was chiseled, with a strong nose bridge and wide jawline, and his narrowed eyes were framed with thick lashes. He was tall and broad, and judging from the strength of the punches and kicks he was throwing, he was also built. 

Obito had always had intense and dark eyes. Something changed that innocent, wide-eyed gaze into one of fierceness. If Kakashi had not known that Obito was glaring at him with hatred and betrayal (and had the situation been a tad different, he might have mistaken that look for want.)

Kakashi did not get time to reflect over how the curve of Obito’s dark eyebrows was slowly deconstructing his carefully built up mental stability, because at that moment, Obito’s lips broke into a cruel smile and he charged forth in his attack.

And as they fought, it also became apparent to Kakashi that Obito was now more dangerous than he had ever been before. Obito had been formidable in his determination, his passion and his ambition, and now he was reaping the rewards of his effort. Obito was dangerous in the way he moved, the way he fought, his inherent inner strength, and his drive in making his plans succeed. Even if the same determination that made Obito want to save his friends when he was younger was now being directed towards beating the shit out of Kakashi. Well, Kakashi could certainly hold his ground. He had grown, too, since they were teammates. He had beaten Obito time and time again in sparring matches, and if doing it again in the middle of a world war would convince Obito to come back down to earth, then so be it.

So when Kakashi and Obito were swept up in their own shared dimension, Kakashi had all the time he needed to really look at his best friend-turned-ghost-turned-enemy. 

But this was not an enemies-to-lovers story after all, and it was bound to have a tragic ending. Kakashi had to wonder why. Why was it that time had simultaneously made Uchiha Obito so handsome, but also so twisted? 

Even now that Obito was taunting him, Kakashi kept getting distracted by the roughness of his voice.

Finally, after taking several punches and kicks to the face and various other body parts, they had each other in a stalemate. Both Kakashi and Obito were breathing heavily, sweat and blood dripping down their faces. Both were impaled. Kakashi felt the metal rod piercing through his ribcage, but all he could do was watch as Obito closed his eyes for a brief moment, mesmerizing gaze hidden, as he took in the electricity coursing through his own ribcage where his pulse had been moments earlier. Kakashi’s hand was shaking in the hollow of Obito’s chest. Red liquid (the same shade of red as their shared Sharingan) dripped onto the stone below them.

Kakashi met Obito’s gaze. For once, they looked into one another’s eyes without hindrance.

 _You know, it almost looks like we’re holding each other’s hearts,_ Kakashi wanted to say.

From the way Obito grinned at him cynically before coughing up a mouthful of blood, Kakashi knew he must have heard him anyway.

* * *

**Madara.**

_**Intense. Dramatic. Wild.** _

One of the more prominent parts of Hashirama’s friendship with Madara had always been the Senju’s blatant appreciation for his (yes, _his_ ) Uchiha’s looks.

Madara was a gift from the divine, and the only other person to listen to Hashirama’s rants about what a better world would have been like. Madara had joked and brightened up Hashirama’s day every time they met at the river, without regard for the war going on around them. Madara was sweet underneath his prickly exterior, and if anyone else bothered to understand his motivations, aspirations, and character better, he wouldn’t nearly be as unpopular as he was among the villagers. 

His earlier memories of Madara mostly consisted of Madara wildly declaring a lot of things and grinning so hard his cheeks only got rounder and his eyes crinkled. Madara had shorter hair back then, and it was maybe slightly less wild, though equally as spiky. Madara had been a bright presence in Hashirama’s life, and they had such a strong bond that it was enough to change both their worldviews and their aspirations as they moved into adulthood. The fact that they were able to remain such good friends even while fighting each other every week was a testament to this fact. Hashirama supposed that he must have fallen for Madara then, fallen for his strong will and even stronger dreams.

But it was always a bonus that Madara was hot.

Hashirama hadn’t really begun to look at his friend in this manner until their last few times meeting as young teens. Hashirama liked to think that he appreciated his friend more for his personality than for his looks. But even he could admit that Madara was slightly overpowered in the looks department. It was a fact that was unfair at the best of times and downright torturous at the worst. The transition from young teen to young adult had more than done him justice.

Madara could best be described as intense. In a dramatic and chaotic kind of way. 

Madara was like a force of nature, boundless in its power but stunning in its natural beauty. His thick, untamed hair reflected his wild spirit. He woke up everyday with bags under his eyes, but that somehow only added to his allure. He was quick when he needed to be, and always rough. He carried the weight of his clan and of the village on his shoulders, which probably explained why he was inexplicably shredded. Had Tobirama not stopped him, Hashirama might have elected to carve Madara’s entire body onto the cliffs overlooking the village so that all of its citizens may bask in the muscular glory of Madara’s physique. Also, what even was that jawline. Maybe Hashirama could pass some sort of law forbidding people from being this attractive, as it was detrimental to the public health. Hashirama would know. He had been suffering from elevated heart rates and sweaty palms for months.

Madara’s attractiveness made it that much harder for Hashirama to concentrate when he had to do important work for the sake of the village, like review reports on recent construction plans, moderate the food supply, and negotiate with allied clans.

And every time Madara unintentionally glanced over during a board meeting, wild dark hair falling over his half-lidded eyes, blinking lazily so that his short, dark lashes brushed against his harsh cheekbones, Hashirama wasn’t able to stop his own heart palpitations. 

Meanwhile, Tobirama reluctantly watched his brother near-salivating after the Uchiha clan head, and noted that the level of sexual tension in the room was rising exponentially until it was off the shoddily-drawn chart he had sketched onto the chalkboard (which was otherwise supposed to be used to catalogue the net village production of wheat).

Tobirama’s mind scrambled to make sense of how it was that this could happen. How could it be that the Uchiha just happened to be attractive, even though Madara was about as feral a person as one could get? How could his messy, black, untamed hair still look thick and silky? How could it be that he still had those regal, cat-like features, the short, dark lashes, the thick brows, the high cheekbones, and the piercing gaze that were characteristic of Uchiha? Tobirama didn’t make an effort to know the members of the clan, but even those he saw passing by on the streets were attractive.

It was unfair. Tobirama almost wished the Senju were blessed with inherent beauty as well. He couldn’t always stop the little flare of jealousy that arose when people from the other clans (which had recently arrived to join their village) mingled with the general population of the village and almost always ended up falling for Uchiha. It was probably because of that odd kekkei genkai of attractiveness, and this explained why the Uchiha clan numbers were ever increasing compared to the Senju.

 _Those darn Uchiha genes,_ Tobirama growled to himself.

* * *

**Sasuke.**

_**Dark. Brooding. Edgy.** _

When Naruto first heard Tobirama’s spiel on the nature of the Curse of Hatred, he remembered being mind-blown, filled with understanding and comprehension as he finally grasped just what exactly it was that had made Sasuke (and the rest of the Uchiha) so darn difficult.

But later, as his eyes trailed over the profile of the aforementioned Sasuke himself, he instead arrived at another revelation.

The Uchiha hadn’t so much been cursed with hatred as they had been cursed with a dark and regal sort of beauty. 

It was apparent in the way Sasuke’s long, dark bangs fell over his forehead and brushed against his cheekbones, looking just tousled enough to somehow appear unruly and attractive at the same time. It was apparent in the narrowing of his eyes, his sharp gaze which flickered from dark to a deep red in increasingly harrowing moments. It was apparent in the way he moved. The way he shifted between his fighting stances so effortlessly. The way he twirled when using his sword as if he was dancing instead of murdering people. His gracefulness. His power.

It was apparent in the way Naruto had somehow fallen completely head over heels for his best friend.

When Naruto was younger, he was jealous over the attention Sasuke received at the hands of every single girl (and maybe even some of the boys) in his class. So what if they had soft spots for emo loner boys with messy hair and dark eyes? Naruto knew that Sasuke was a jerk, and nothing about his face could change that. After all, it was the inside that really mattered!

It was possible that he had had this exact discussion with Sakura and his other classmates at some point. The conversation went something like this:

“Isn’t Sasuke so hot?” Ino sighed, closing her eyes and jokingly fanning her face.

“Agreed,” Sakura giggled.

Naruto didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to chime in and confirm their thoughts because he would be admitting that he agreed. But he found himself wondering why they were right. Sasuke _was_ kind of attractive. But that was totally unfair! Sasuke was already a jerk and he was already respected by everyone for somehow being good at everything, and he did not deserve to also be attractive. Sometimes Naruto did not understand how the universe worked. (Occasionally, he would hope that puberty would feel bad for him, and that once he was a teenager his classmates would be blown away by his cuteness and instantly regret being mean to him. Of course, this came second to him showing them just how good of a person he was!)

Most of the girls in the class were in agreement, and had come to the consensus that Sasuke was, indeed, hot. But just the other day they had said the same thing about Sasuke’s scary older brother, Itachi. Something about his dark and edgy aesthetic, and the fact that everyone was terrified of him for being the well-respected shinobi he was. Although, to be honest, Naruto also thought that Itachi was too scary to really be attractive, and he was pretty sure the girls thought the same thing. 

(They had been really young at the time, and Naruto found out he was right not long afterwards when Itachi turned out to be just as scary of a person as he looked.)

But anyways, Sasuke and Itachi’s shared attractiveness probably had to do with the Uchiha genes.

Shikamaru was the first to point out this fact, and the others agreed. Several kids raised examples of their Uchiha friends around the village, and the consensus formed that Uchiha were indeed attractive.

“I think the Uchiha are overrated,” Neji muttered as he interrupted the discussion on genetics from somewhere on the sidelines, clearly bitter.

There was silence for a few seconds. Then, Hinata added on in a much quieter voice: “Neji’s right, you know.”

“Are you jealous?” Kiba said loudly, completely steamrolling over any sort of opinion Hinata may have had.

“I am absolutely not.”

“Mm-hmm. Sure.”

At that point, Naruto tuned them out, too caught up in his own jealousy over Sasuke’s admittedly superior skills. A few years later, Sasuke’s edginess would double, and he would only grow darker from there on.

Now that Naruto was older, he understood and maybe even empathized a little with his classmates. Sasuke certainly had the face (and broad shoulders, and collarbones, and long neck, and body in general) to override any unpleasant personality traits he may have possessed. Not that it would have mattered, because Naruto had seen Sasuke in his gentler, friendlier moments, and he was also head over heels for those parts of Sasuke. Sasuke was blessed enough to have both an attractive physical appearance, and (at least for Naruto) an attractive personality as well. Maybe not everyone would agree on the latter point, but still.

Sasuke was incredibly hot, even if he was dark and edgy and brooding all the time, but his appearance couldn’t hold a candle to the way he fought for his beliefs, and the way he had fought Naruto, confident in his recognition of a good rival. The acknowledgement Naruto had received, and their spars as near-equals, and sometimes even the little grins Sasuke had thrown his way, were infinitely more attractive than whatever physical features his classmates may have pointed to.

Sasuke was the most attractive to Naruto because he was his best friend. (And you know what they say about finding your friends attractive.)

Sasuke had departed from the village when his darkness became too much for him to bear, and he made the incorrect decision to take on these issues by himself, instead of with the support of his classmates and friends. Naruto had always thought that one of Sasuke’s character flaws was his obsession with independence, to the point that he was always isolated. He was always alone.

Naruto once felt the same way. But now that he knew what it was like to be surrounded by friends and those that supported and believed in him, he wanted more than ever to show Sasuke what it felt like to experience the same thing. Sasuke could only see the darkness around him, and he had never slowed down enough to see that others found him beautiful, that there were those who saw all pieces of him and were willing to help. 

So, to demonstrate his love for his closest friend and someone he had admired and yearned after for years, Naruto made it his mission to hunt Sasuke down and bring him back to the village. Naruto wouldn’t let Sasuke fall victim to the Curse of the Uchiha. Naruto would show Sasuke just how beautiful he was.  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> YES i think every single uchiha (except crusty old fugaku) is hot
> 
> PLEASE leave a comment because i love reading all of my reader's reactions! even if it's something silly like "you are wrong and obito is a pasty lil bitch" i'll still respond with love and appreciation. even if you've insulted my darling son obito.
> 
> you're welcome.
> 
> [check out my tumblr!](https://cosmicconundrum.tumblr.com/)


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